


Sherlock x Reader: Hot Days

by KingOfHearts709



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Experiment, F/M, Fluff, Hot, Sunny - Freeform, loopy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:50:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, it has to get real hot in London at some point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock x Reader: Hot Days

**Author's Note:**

> Yup. This happened. xoxo

You stretched, getting ready for bed. God, it was burning out. At least eighty degrees, you thought, which was pretty hot for you. You pulled on a T-shirt that just barely hung below your chest and peeled off your jeans. That was better. You crawled under the covers and buried your face on the coldness of the pillow, drifting off into well-needed sleep.  
~~~Time Skip from all of John's girlfriends~~~  
"(YN)?" a deep voice rang out into your flat. "Where are you?" You wrenched your eyes open at the sudden voice. Recognising it immediately as Sherlock's, you grabbed a pillow and pushed it on your head, hoping to block him out.  
"Don't do that," Sherlock said, "it doesn't work."  
"What do you want?" you growled.  
"John's out, I need you for an experiment."  
"And you think I'll jump up and run to your flat- Hold on, how did you even get in here?" You pushed away the pillow, the sudden blinding light from your window causing you discomfort. You groaned as your vision adjusted.  
"The door was unlocked," Sherlock answered, seemingly bored with the topic. "Now get up."  
"No."  
"Get up."  
"No!"  
"I don't see how it is so difficult for you to get out of bed."  
"Maybe because I don't want to?" Sherlock sighed, annoyed, and grabbed the edge of your sheets. You were too tired and hot to care if he yanked off the sheets. Slowly, he pulled the covers and bundled them up in his arms.  
And then he caught sight of what you were wearing.  
It took you a minute to remember you had barely put on anything because it had been so hot. Nevertheless, you thought it could work to your advantage and make him leave. To your surprise, however, Sherlock dropped your blankets and dragged you out of bed and into the hallway outside of your apartment. You groaned the whole way as he pulled you upstairs into 221B, letting go only to venture into the kitchen and search for a vial of liquid, pouring it into a mug of tea before coming back out to hand it to you. You yawned and looked at the mug, not entirely sure if you could trust this.  
"Relax, it'll just make you a bit disoriented," Sherlock assured, and with that he set it in your hands. You turned the cup, deciding you had no choice, and drank it in about three gulps. You let out a breath and set the mug aside. You were already feeling a bit fuzzy.  
"I'll monitor your actions for the next hour or so," Sherlock called. "Until it's worn off, just relax for a while."  
~~~Another Timey Wimey skip from detective Castiel~~~  
After about thirty minutes, you were about as loopy as a drunken cow. You were giggling, bumping into things, poking Sherlock's face, and overall being a little hazardous. Sherlock sat you down in John's chair, then went to sit in his own.  
"Pupils dilated, actions weary, disorientated," he listed as he studied you. You laughed.  
"You're so funny, Sherly-Werly," you giggled, "always making me do stuff." You widened your eyes when you saw the buttons on Sherlock's shirt. "Oh, my God, what are those things?" You leaned forward and prodded one of them. "Do they make a sound?" You poked one again. "Beep!" As you giggled manically, Sherlock rolled his eyes. He took your hand and helped you to the couch.  
"Go to sleep," he said, carefully.  
"Okay-dokay, Sherly-Werly," you sighed, and automatically fell asleep, face down on the arm. He found himself smiling at you.  
Then he stopped when he remembered your attire. All in all, Sherlock really did enjoy the hot days.  
Extended Ending  
"I'm back, Sherlock," John called as he bounded the stairs. "Why did you write 'ten pounds of butter' on the-" He immediately stopped when he saw you snoring soundly on the couch. He looked from you, then to Sherlock in his chair, then to you again. He took a step further, turning his gaze back to Sherlock.  
"I've missed something again, haven't I?"


End file.
